


under my skin

by veritasLItg



Category: Love Island (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Enemies to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Pining, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:29:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29469474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veritasLItg/pseuds/veritasLItg
Summary: Henrik has a crush on his best friend Lucas – a big one. The problem is, Lucas is already dating someone else. Someone Henrik can’t stand.So when Lucas asks them to spend time with each other, Henrik is reluctant. But he just can’t say no, and now he’s stuck with someone who can’t help but get under his skin – in more ways than one.
Relationships: Henrik & Lucas Koh, Henrik/Bobby McKenzie, Lucas Koh/Bobby McKenzie
Comments: 18
Kudos: 23





	under my skin

**Author's Note:**

> For the Enemies-to-Lovers prompt competition at r/LITGFanFiction
> 
> Thanks to Lauren for beta-reading!

“I don’t get why you hate him so much.”

Henrik pinched the bridge of his nose as he paced the length of his living room, his cell phone pressed to his ear. “I dunno, Lucas, there’s just something about him.”

“Henrik, he’s my _boyfriend_. The least you can do is try to give me a little support.”

“I know, and I want to. I want you to be happy. I just…”

He pulled the phone away from his ear as the sound of Lucas’s heavy sigh came through the speaker.

“Hen, you’re my best friend. I need you to get along with him.”

“But—”

“ _Please_ , Hen. For me.”

Henrik lowered the phone to his chest as he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. He could barely make out Lucas’s voice calling his name, a sound that he never got sick of. In resignation, he brought the phone back up to his ear.

“Okay,” he said quietly, his voice strained as he struggled to push the word out.

“What?”

“I said, _okay_.”

“Really? You will?”

“I’ll try, at least. For you.”

 _For you_. _Only_ for you.

“Thanks, Hen.” The voice on the other end of the line sounded relieved. “Look, there’s a party at Chelsea’s this weekend, and I’m bringing Bobby. It would mean a lot to me if you could be there and take some time to talk to him. I’m sure once you guys start talking more, you’ll find some common ground and figure out a way to get along.”

 _Common ground_. Oh, they had common ground, alright, but Henrik wasn’t about to mention that.

“Yeah, sure,” he said finally. “I’ll be there.”

“Good. I’ll see you then, alright?”

“Yeah. Alright. Bye, Lucas.”

The line went dead, and Henrik stared at the phone in his hand, his stomach tying itself into knots. Getting to know Bobby fucking McKenzie better was the last thing he wanted to do.

***

“Henrik, hi!” Chelsea beamed at him from her open doorway. “Come in!”

Henrik greeted the bubbly blonde, kissing her on both cheeks before stepping inside her penthouse.

“Is Lucas here already?” he asked, trying to keep his voice from quivering the way it always did when he spoke of the man.

“Yeah!” Her eyes lit up. “And Bobby, too! Aren’t they so cute together? I’m so glad Lucas finally found someone.”

Henrik smiled thinly as his eyes searched the open space that was already crowded with people. Bingo. He found Lucas – he’d recognize the back of his head anywhere – and went over to him, clapping his hand on the other man’s shoulder as he approached.

“Lucas! What’s up, buddy?”

 _Buddy_. How he hated the word.

Lucas turned around with a smile, and it was only then that Henrik noticed Bobby standing there. His stomach roiled as the attractive man with a permanent smirk (or at least, it seemed permanent to Henrik) on his face looked in his direction, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Henrik, good, you’re here!” Lucas smiled at his best friend and shuffled over to make space for him to join their group. “I promised to help Chelsea with something, so why don’t you guys go get yourselves a drink?”

It was all Henrik could do to hold back from rolling his eyes at the obvious attempt to get the two men to talk to each other. But he would oblige. Just for Lucas.

“Okay, why not.”

Bobby’s eyebrows raised slightly, but he simply shrugged his shoulders and jerked his head towards the kitchen.

“C’mon, this way,” he said.

_I know, jerk. I’ve been here more than you have._

Henrik bit his tongue and followed. The large kitchen island had been set up as an open bar, and one of Chelsea’s girlfriends, a pale Aussie with platinum blonde hair dyed pink at the ends, was mixing drinks.

As Henrik ordered a vodka martini, there was that smirk again on Bobby’s lips.

“That’s what Lucas drinks,” he said as he slid onto a barstool. He turned to the girl and asked for a whiskey neat. She nodded and indicated she’d be a minute.

“Yeah, so?” Henrik shrugged. “He’s got good taste.”

Bobby’s fingertips tapped on the counter, and Henrik felt his pulse quickening in time with each beat. The man was watching him intently, his eyes narrowing as his lips curved upwards. Henrik swallowed, doing his best to act natural.

“You like him, don’t you?” Bobby said in a low voice, loud enough only for Henrik to hear.

Henrik’s heart nearly stopped as his eyes lifted to meet the amber ones staring back at him knowingly.

“I knew it,” the other man chuckled, and his fingers ceased their tapping as he slapped them flat on the counter. “I fucking knew it.”

“I don’t—”

“It’s obvious,” Bobby smirked. “The way your eyes follow him like a sad little puppy dog, the way you’re always so clingy.”

Henrik glared back at him. “I’m not—”

“Here you go, lads.” The girl’s cheerful Aussie accent interrupted them, and they both stopped to accept the drinks she handed them.

“Yes, you are. That’s why you don’t like me – because you’re jealous!”

“I’m not fucking jealous,” Henrik seethed, his fist clenching.

Bobby hopped off his stool and stood as tall as he could next to the towering Swede. He placed a hand on Henrik’s shoulder and leaned on it as he lifted himself on his toes to whisper in his ear, “Well, guess what: I’m the one who’s gonna be fucking him tonight.”

Henrik’s blood boiled, and without thinking he threw his drink in Bobby’s face. He spun on his heel as Bobby sputtered behind him and quickly made his way back through the crowded flat, muttering half-hearted apologies as he squeezed between the other guests.

“Hen? Where are you going?”

Even Lucas’s voice wasn’t enough to make him see past the red mist, and he shoved through, ignoring someone’s pissed off “What the fuck?” as he made a beeline towards the exit.

He slammed the door behind him and leaned against it, his chest heaving as he sought to catch his breath.

“Oi! Mate! Mind getting out of the way?”

He turned his head to see a couple people staring at him.

“Huh?”

“The party, mate. You’re blocking the door.”

“Oh, right.” Henrik stepped aside and slunk away down the hall, leaving the building and hailing a cab.

_Shit. Lucas is gonna be pissed._

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out. Lucas, of course. Probably calling to ream him out. He wouldn’t understand. He didn’t see the side of Bobby that Henrik saw. He was too blinded by… whatever it was he saw in that dickhead. Probably his soft amber eyes that always held a mischievous sparkle. The freckles that dotted his face and chest like stars dotted the night sky. His lips when they curved slightly upwards.

Henrik shook his head in disgust and looked back at his phone. It had stopped vibrating, and the screen was black. As it lit up again, he sighed and held down the power button, turning it off. He wasn’t ready to talk. Not to Lucas. Not yet.

When he reached his flat, he entered it and looked around. Cold, empty, lifeless. As his eyes travelled over his cheap Ikea furniture, he thought back to the happy moments. Lucas sprawled out on the couch laughing at him. Lucas in the kitchen, trying to teach him how to make Korean meals. The two of them sitting around the table playing cards, getting shitfaced drinking aquavit – together.

There were a lot fewer of those moments since Bobby McKenzie looked in Lucas’s direction one day and Lucas was sucked into his orbit. Hanging on his every word. Looking at him like he hung the moon. He had never looked at Henrik like that, and that was when Henrik realized how much he wanted him to.

He sighed and pulled a bottle of rum out of a cupboard. He might’ve left the party, but he could still drink away his sorrows.

***

Henrik woke with a pounding headache. He sat up, bleary-eyed, and looked at his surroundings. Still on the couch where he had been drinking last night, the telly flashing away with the volume turned low.

He suddenly realized the pounding wasn’t just in his head – someone was banging on the door.

“C’mon, Hen, I know you’re in there. Open up.”

_Fuck. Lucas._

He ran a hand through his hair and looked sorrowfully down at last night’s outfit. No time to change or look presentable. He really wanted to look presentable.

“Coming,” he mumbled, and he shuffled to the door and threw it open.

Lucas was leaning with his arm against the doorframe, and he looked pissed.

 _Shit_. Henrik swallowed, remembering the unanswered calls from the previous night.

“What the fuck, Hen?” Lucas pushed his way inside, and Henrik closed the door behind him. “All I wanted was for you and Bobby to take some time to get to know each other. Instead, you threw your drink in his face, left the party I asked you to come to, didn’t answer any of my calls, and made me come all the way across town to come see you. What’s your problem?”

“I’m sorry, Lu—”

“No, Hen, that’s not good enough,” Lucas seethed. “You’re always sorry, but you can never tell me _why_. We’ve been friends for years! We’ve _always_ gotten along with the same people. What is it about Bobby that makes you do this kind of thing?”

Henrik opened his mouth, then thought better of it. He couldn’t repeat what Bobby had said. He couldn’t explain why the words made him act the way he had.

Lucas sighed, disappointed with the lack of response. He shoved his hands into his pockets and stared down at the floor for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, he lifted his head and gave his friend a pleading look.

“Can you try again?”

Air rushed out of Henrik’s lungs as he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “What?” The word came out almost as a whisper.

“Can you try just one more time?” Lucas asked quietly. “To spend some time with him?”

Henrik bit his lower lip as he looked at the dark-haired man, his heart pumping so hard in his chest he thought for sure he would be caught out.

“Fine,” he sighed. “What did you have in mind?”

Lucas smiled in relief. “Do you still have access to that cabin?”

Henrik froze. The cabin? Lucas wanted him to take Bobby to _his uncle’s_ _cabin_? The one-bedroom lakeside cabin in the middle of nowhere with just an outhouse, no cell service, and barely any hot water? The cabin that was Henrik’s retreat, his safe space, his favourite place in the world? The last thing he wanted to do was sully the place by bringing Bobby fucking McKenzie there. He had to say no.

Instead, “Um, yeah, I think I can get it for a weekend,” was his response. He held back from cringing as he said the words, putting on a brave face. He never could say no to Lucas.

“Great. I think it would be helpful for the two of you to get away from it all; really spend some quality time together.”

“Yeah. Right.”

_Fuck._

***

Much to Henrik’s chagrin, Bobby readily agreed to the plan, and now he was leaning on the rear end of his car outside Bobby’s flat, waiting for him to come outside. The sun was shining, and the weather forecast for the weekend was perfect. It would have been a great opportunity to escape to the cabin on his own to sort his thoughts out, but instead he’s going there with the last person on earth he wants to spend time with.

Bobby practically bounded down the steps of his building, looking far too excited for the trip. He cast his eyes over Henrik with a smirk and clapped him on the shoulder as he dropped his bags onto the ground.

“Toss these in the boot for me, will ya?” he asked, giving Henrik a cheeky wink before making his way over to the passenger door and disappearing inside the vehicle.

Henrik rolled his eyes as he unlocked the boot and picked up the bags.

_What the fuck does he have in here? It’s just a weekend!_

He slammed the boot shut and slid into the driver’s seat, sneaking a glance at the man next to him. There was that sparkle in his eyes again, and Henrik swallowed back a groan. He wasn’t ready for whatever fresh torture Bobby had in store for him.

He shifted the gears and pulled the car onto the road. For better or worse – probably worse – they were on their way.

The first 15 minutes as they drove out of the city actually weren’t too bad. Bobby seemed content to scroll through his social media accounts, occasionally snickering at something but not sharing. That was fine with Henrik, who was more than happy to say as little as possible, choosing instead to listen to the radio.

It was only when they reached the city limits that things started to go south.

“This car’s a bit of a clunker, isn’t she? Is this a fuckin’ Saab?” Bobby asked as he set his phone down in the centre console.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

“Just seems a little… stereotypical, is all.”

“Why?”

“I dunno,” Bobby shrugged, “maybe because it’s Swedish?”

Henrik’s eyebrows scrunched together as he made a face. “What does that have to do with—”

“Never mind.” Bobby waved a hand dismissively. “You sure it’s gonna get us there in one piece?”

Henrik’s jaw clenched, and he told himself not to take the bait. _It’s just a car._

“It doesn’t look like much,” he responded, “but it’s in decent shape. It hasn’t failed me so far.”

“Alright,” Bobby smirked. “I’ll take your word for it, mate.”

Mate. _Mate?_ The audacity.

Bobby began fiddling with the radio controls, flipping stations aimlessly. Listening to a song for 30 seconds, then switching. Another song for five seconds, switch. Switch. Switch.

“Can’t you just pick one? What we had before was fine.”

“I’m sick of it.”

_I’m sick of you. Already._

Bobby changed the station again, and the familiar words of ABBA’s _SOS_ came on.

“Oh, stop it there,” Henrik said.

Bobby raised his eyebrows and looked over at him with a look of derision on his face. “ABBA, seriously?”

Henrik’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. Every time Bobby opened his mouth to make his snarky little comments, Henrik found himself winding up tighter and tighter, and he was trying desperately not to snap.

“I like ABBA, okay?”

Bobby snorted. “Whatever floats your boat, sweetheart.”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me ‘sweetheart,’” Henrik retorted sharply, his fingers turning white as his grip became viselike. He shook his head in exasperation. “I don’t understand what Lucas sees in you.”

“Oh, no?” Bobby grinned and slouched down in his seat as he grabbed his crotch, making sure Henrik could see what he was doing even with his eyes on the road. “I think Lucas knows a good thing when he sees it.”

Henrik rolled his eyes and copied the gesture. “I don’t think that has anything to do with it.”

Bobby’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Challenge accepted.”

“That wasn’t a—”

“He loves grabbing my hair and guiding my head where he wants it, he loves kissing my lips, he loves spanking my arse, he loves it when I—"

Henrik couldn’t listen anymore. “You’re a fucking jackass, you know that?”

“Guilty as charged, my friend.”

“For the last fucking time,” Henrik smacked the steering wheel, punctuating each word, “I’m not your friend!”

Bobby tsked. “Ah, but your poor boy Lucas wants you to be!”

Before Henrik could respond, Bobby’s phone started vibrating, and he was quick to answer it.

“Lucas! We were just talking about you!”

He winked at Henrik, who was struck by how smoothly the other man transitioned from teasing asshole to smooth-talking boyfriend. It made his stomach turn and the hairs on his arms stick straight up. He was forced to listen to one side of the conversation for what felt like hours, hearing nothing but that sultry voice contrasting with the tinny sound of Lucas’s words coming through the speaker. All his attempts to turn the volume on the radio up were thwarted by a smack on the hand and a dirty look from his passenger.

_God, are we almost there yet?_

If there was one benefit to the call from Lucas, it was that it saved Henrik from having to talk to Bobby himself. And by the time Bobby hung up the phone and threw him a satisfied smirk, he had calmed down enough that he felt he might be able to make it through the rest of the drive without pulling over to strangle him. Maybe.

Luckily, Bobby seemed to think he had made his point and was happy enough to keep to himself for the rest of the drive, staring out the window and watching the landscape pass by. Still, Henrik could barely contain his relief when he steered the car onto the sideroad that led to the cabin.

“Are we there yet?” Bobby asked in a bored voice.

“Almost,” Henrik replied. He ignored the tapping of Bobby’s fingers on the door as he kept his eyes peeled for the next turn.

Soon they pulled up in front of a small lakeside cabin surrounded by trees, and he turned off the ignition.

“This is it?” Bobby asked, sounding unimpressed. “It looks like a d—”

“Don’t say it,” Henrik interrupted as he opened his door. “You agreed to come.”

Bobby followed him out of the car and leaned against it, crossing his arms. “Lucas didn’t tell me what a shithole it would be.”

“It’s not a shithole,” Henrik huffed. “Lucas hasn’t been here in years. He probably doesn’t remember what it looks like.”

Bobby raised his eyebrows. “Well, fuck, why’d he send me up here?”

“Because,” Henrik replied as he moved around to the boot of the car and unlocked it, “this means a lot to him.”

“Subjecting me to this?” Bobby walked towards the cabin and disappeared around the side of it, and Henrik sighed as he threw his duffel over his shoulder, then picked up both of Bobby’s bags. He cursed at the weight of them as he closed the boot and shuffled towards the cabin.

“IS THIS A FUCKING OUTHOUSE?!”

Henrik sighed again. It was going to be a long, long weekend.

***

Henrik pushed open the cabin door and unceremoniously dumped Bobby’s bags on the floor. He dropped his own bag in the cabin’s one bedroom – Bobby could sleep on the couch for all he cared – before making a few more trips to the car to bring in the groceries and bed linens. He put the food away, made up the bed, and tossed a sleeping bag on the couch, then headed out to the back deck.

He stepped outside and chuckled at the sight in front of him.

Bobby stood on the edge of the dock, squinting as he held his phone up in the air, moving it around.

“There’s no cell service out here,” Henrik called to him.

Bobby turned around at the sound of his voice and flipped him the middle finger, then moved to the other end of the dock and held up the phone again.

“Fuck! Nothing.”

“I told you,” Henrik said, smirking at the sight. As annoying as Bobby was, and as much as he dreaded spending time with him, it felt good to see him so pissed off – to have the upper hand for once.

“Fuck you!” Bobby tossed the useless phone onto the grass and kicked one of the posts supporting the dock. “Ow!”

“You’re such a wanker.” Henrik rolled his eyes and shook his head as he turned to head back into the cabin.

***

After changing into a pair of swim shorts, Henrik went back outside and strolled towards the water. Bobby had found a lounge chair and was laid out shirtless. He looked up at Henrik’s approach and raised an eyebrow.

“Swimming? In that water?”

“It’s perfectly clean,” Henrik replied. He ignored Bobby’s stare as he walked to the edge of the dock and dove in.

The water was cold, but he didn’t care. It was refreshing, and better yet, he was away from Bobby. He rose to the surface and began swimming in smooth strokes out towards the middle of the small lake. It was calming, and he flipped onto his back, floating along, his long blonde hair splayed out around him in the water.

He heard a splash and groaned as he looked back up at the cabin to see Bobby’s head bobbing in the water. He treaded in place as he watched the other man swim out to join him. Why couldn’t he just leave him alone?

“I thought the water was too dirty for you,” he called out.

Bobby looked up at him and smirked. “When you’re as hot as me, sometimes you just need to cool down. Can’t be picky when this is all that’s on offer, right?”

“There’s a shower in the cabin.”

“Oh, but you looked like you were having so much fun! I just had to join you.”

Henrik snorted. “Well, keep up, then.” He turned and began swimming towards the other side of the lake. He was the first to reach the sandy beach and was pleased with himself. At least there was one thing Bobby couldn’t claim to be better than him at.

“You had a head start,” Bobby said as he came up behind him and clapped him on the shoulder, as if he was reading his mind. “Doesn’t count.”

Henrik slapped his hand away, his skin tingling where it had been. “Get off me!”

The familiar curl of Bobby’s lips appeared as he stepped closer to Henrik, forcing him to take a step back. “Make me.”

“Fuck off, prick!” Henrik spun on his heel and headed back into the water, swimming as hard as he could back to the cabin, needing to put distance between them. When he finally reached the dock and pulled himself up onto it, he looked over to the other side to see Bobby crouching on the beach, building a fucking sandcastle, without a care in the world.

_Fucking tosser._

***

Henrik’s stomach growled as he re-entered the cabin. He dried himself off and headed into the small kitchen to make lunch. After taking stock of the groceries he’d brought, he decided on a mushroom omelette, and went to work.

As the mushrooms cooked, he opened a box of Swedish fish sweets and tossed one into his mouth as he thought about his companion for the weekend.

Why on earth had he agreed to come? As far as he knew, Bobby disliked him as much as he disliked Bobby. He certainly acted like it, at least. Henrik had purposely picked out a weekend shortly after the incident at Chelsea’s party and told Lucas it was the only time the cabin was available, expecting that Bobby would have other plans and decline. But he hadn’t. Was it out of respect and his feelings for Lucas, or was he just sadistic enough to want to spend the weekend pissing him off?

He stirred the mushrooms absentmindedly as he popped another sweet into his mouth.

“Are those Swedish fish?” Bobby asked as he walked in from outside and let the door slam behind him.

Henrik glared at him and looked pointedly at the door, and Bobby just shrugged.

“Yeah, they are,” he replied.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Why the fuck would I be kidding?”

Bobby didn’t respond; instead, he walked up behind Henrik, looking over his shoulder at the sweets. “Well, aren’t you gonna share?”

Henrik flushed at Bobby’s sudden nearness and inched away. He frowned as he stared longingly into the package of sweet deliciousness. No, he didn’t want to share, not with Bobby. He wanted to take the whole box of candy and eat them right in front of him, one by one. But he didn’t. He fished out one more sweet for himself, then handed the package to Bobby.

“Awesome.” Bobby popped one of the sweets into his mouth, then shoved the box into his pocket.

“Hey, give it back!” Henrik lunged towards him, trying to reach into his pocket to retrieve the candy. “That’s mine!”

“Not a chance!” Bobby took a step back, then turned and ran out the front door.

“Get back here, knobhead!” Henrik chased after him, but Bobby was faster than he expected and ran into the woods. Henrik could hear him giggling and taunting him, and it just made him more and more annoyed, both with the other man for his childish behaviour, and himself for continuously falling for his tricks. He pivoted on his heel and stormed back into the cabin, slamming the door.

“Ah, fuck!”

A burning smell reached his nostrils, and he ran for the stove, moving the skillet off the stovetop. He swore under his breath as he scraped the mushrooms off the bottom of the pan.

 _Whatever_. He would have to eat them anyway; he wasn’t the type to waste food if he could help it, and they didn’t look _too_ bad… He set about cooking the eggs and was just sitting down to eat when Bobby walked back in – chewing obnoxiously.

“These Swedish fish things are good,” Bobby said, and Henrik rolled his eyes. “Wait, did you burn lunch? Ha!”

“Shut the fuck up and eat,” Henrik replied sullenly as he stabbed his fork into the eggs. He nodded at another plate on the counter. “I made some for you, too.”

“Aw, how sweet.” Bobby wrinkled his nose as he looked at the burnt mushrooms, but to Henrik’s relief he didn’t say anything. He picked up the plate, slid into a chair across from Henrik, and dug in. He grimaced as he tasted the burnt food. “I’m making dinner tonight.”

Henrik raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have to.”

“You kidding? This is rank. You clearly can’t be trusted in the kitchen.”

“I was distracted,” he huffed, narrowing his eyes at Bobby, “and I want my candy back.”

“Mate, I literally cook for a living.” Bobby winked, ignoring the mention of the sweets.

“Fine. You cook; make yourself useful.”

_Bastard._

They ate the rest of their meal in tense silence, broken only by the sounds of their utensils scraping against the plates.

***

“There’s nothing to do here,” Bobby complained later that afternoon.

Henrik had gone outside to sit on the deck with a book, and to his surprise, Bobby had joined him. Whether it was sheer boredom or the desire to further annoy him, Henrik wasn’t sure.

“Go swimming,” he suggested.

“Did that already. You were there, remember?”

“Read a book.”

“Didn’t bring any.”

“Read one of mine.”

“Boring.”

Henrik rolled his eyes. “There’s a canoe.”

“Don’t know how.”

_Who cares, just take it and get yourself stranded in the middle of the lake._

“Go for a hike.”

_Please?_

“Kinda did that already, too.”

“There should be a deck of cards somewhere.”

“And play what, solitaire?” Bobby snorted. “As if.”

“Don’t you have games on your phone or something?”

_Something, anything!_

“Need the internet, dumbass.”

Henrik sighed, for what he felt was the umpteenth time already that day. “We’ve got board games.”

“And how do you expect me to play those by myself?”

He finally turned to Bobby in exasperation. “If I join you, will you shut the fuck up?”

Bobby’s trademark lopsided smile spread across his face as his eyes twinkled. “No promises.”

“And will you leave me alone if I don’t?”

“Probably not.”

_Ugh._

“Fine.” Henrik grumbled as he slipped a bookmark between the pages of his book and set it aside. “I was at a good part, too.”

“Oh, yeah? Was the guy about to confess his feelings to his best friend?”

Henrik glared at Bobby, wanting more than anything to wipe that smug smirk off his face. “No, you fuckin’ ballsack, it’s the bit where there are millions of dead trees everywhere and all the dragonflies are six feet long.”

Bobby burst into laughter. “The fuck? You takin’ the piss?” He grabbed the book off the side table and looked at the cover before flipping through the pages. “’Origins of Life’? You really are a fuckin’ dobber, aren’t you?”

Henrik snatched the book out of his hands as he stood up. “Fuck off.”

He entered the cabin as Bobby giggled to himself on the deck.

 _Arsehole_.

He left the book in the bedroom and went in search of the board games, trying to find something Bobby would enjoy. Who knew, maybe humouring him for a bit would help. They were supposed to be bonding, after all.

_Monopoly? Nah, Bobby’ll cheat. Sorry? Nope, nobody’s apologizing. Scrabble? How many words can we find to insult each other? Battleship? Hm. Battleship._

He had a feeling _Battleship_ would appeal to Bobby’s childishness and immaturity, so he tucked the game under his arm and grabbed a couple beers from the fridge before returning outside.

“Battleship? Are you having a laugh? Do I think I’m twelve years old?”

Henrik slammed the beer bottles down on the deck table and set up the game boards across from each other.

“You’ve been acting like it, so yeah, I do think that.” He looked up and glared at him before sliding one of the beers over to him. “Knobshite.”

Bobby smirked as he accepted the bottle and popped the cap off. “Tsk tsk, shouldn’t give beer to minors, mate.”

“Shut up and play.”

They placed their ships and began taking turns, both getting into the competitive spirit, neither wanting to concede defeat to the other. Soon Henrik was sweating. Bobby had only a few more pegs to hit and he would win.

“B7.”

“Fuck!” Henrik slammed his fist on the table. “Bullshit!”

“My, my, you just can’t lose honourably, can you?”

“Not to you,” Henrik growled, and Bobby burst out laughing.

“Mate, take it easy!” Bobby stood from the table and leaned on it, getting close so he could whisper in Henrik’s ear, “It’s just a game.”

But it wasn’t, was it? Whatever their pissing contest was all about, it felt charged with something that Henrik just couldn’t put his finger on. He knew Bobby was annoying him on purpose, but he couldn’t figure out why. And he couldn’t figure out why it bothered him as much as it did. Why it turned his stomach upside-down and made his hairs stand on end.

“Alright, I’m making dinner,” Bobby said as he headed toward the door. “You go ahead and read your book. Or try, at least. Big words and all that.”

“Piss off.”

Bobby left, and Henrik leaned back in his chair. He reached for his book, only to realize it was inside, and he swore under his breath. He didn’t fancy going back into the cabin and hearing whatever Bobby would have to say; he didn’t have the courage to face that smirk again. So, he propped his legs up on the table and leaned back in his chair to soak up the later afternoon sun in peace.

***

“Hey. Hey, arsehole.”

Something shook Henrik, and he woke to find Bobby staring down at him with one eyebrow quirked. He blinked as he looked around, taking in his surroundings. He was still outside, having fallen asleep on the deck chair, and Bobby was holding out a plate of food. His stomach growled as the scent wafting off the place reached his nostrils, making his mouth water.

“Dinner is served, Your Highness.” It was said sarcastically, yet Henrik could almost imagine a hint of softness in Bobby’s tone.

He gratefully accepted the plate, and Bobby moved over to his own chair to consume his meal. Henrik looked down to see a hearty-looking meal of homemade meatballs, mashed potatoes, beans, and carrots.

He bit into one of the meatballs and was barely able to stifle a moan at the familiar taste. They were Swedish style, a gesture which both annoyed and pleased him.

“These are Swedish,” he said with his mouth full as he narrowed his eyes at the other man.

“Um, yeah. So?” Bobby replied between bites.

“I like more than Swedish stuff, you know. You don’t have to keep making fun of me.”

Bobby snorted. “But it’s so much fun!”

“It’s annoying, is what it is,” he grumbled.

“That’s kinda the point, mate. Duh?”

He glared again at Bobby, who just laughed.

“So, you like more than Swedish stuff, eh? Like what?”

Henrik looked at him suspiciously, looking for the telltale smirk, but Bobby was too busy eating to look as mischievous as usual.

“Scotch eggs are one of my favourites – I always take them when I’m out on hikes and stuff. And fish and chips, shepherd’s pie, and—”

“Ever try haggis?”

“No, but I’ll try anything twice.”

Bobby smirked. “I wanna jerk a haggis.”

Henrik groaned. “Did you have to make it dirty? I’m trying to eat here.”

“I mean the spice, ya knob. Jerk haggis, like jerk chicken? I wanna make it a thing.”

“Why?” Henrik screwed his face up in disgust.

“Because I’m part Jamaican, part Scottish,” he replied with a shrug. “Perfect way to show off my roots. Plus, you can jerk pretty much any meat, and haggis is all kinds of meat.”

“Isn’t it just the stomachs?”

“Nah, it’s just cooked in the stomach. Although nowadays we usually use an artificial casing. You should try it sometime.”

Henrik stared at him. Was Bobby being nice, or just taking the piss? He couldn’t tell, but it was weird and uncomfortable.

“Maybe I will.” He shifted in his seat and returned his attention to his food. He had to admit, Bobby was a fucking good cook. He just wouldn’t say it aloud. He wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.

They were quiet as they finished their meal. Henrik couldn’t help but look up at the other man occasionally, trying to figure him out. Trying to determine what it was about him that had him so on edge every time they were together. It had to be more than just the fact he was Lucas’s boyfriend, right?

***

Henrik watched as the flames began to lick at the logs he’d added to the campfire, then sat back in his camping chair and gazed into the fire, letting it mesmerize him. This, this was what he loved about the cabin. The warmth and comfort of a campfire, the lingering smell of smoke on his clothes and in his hair afterwards.

Bobby was in the woods, digging around for sticks appropriate for roasting marshmallows, intent on making s’mores. Henrik hadn’t even brought the necessities for s’mores, but apparently Bobby had done so himself. He’d dug around in one of his bags until he came up with the marshmallows, chocolate, and biscuits with a huge grin on his face.

That was one of the weird things about Bobby, Henrik thought. He was an asshole, sure, but he seemed to take just as much pleasure in the little things like building sandcastles and making s’mores as he did in saying things to piss Henrik off.

Maybe Lucas was right. Maybe if they just took the time to stop pushing each other’s buttons, they could learn to get along. Maybe.

Satisfied with the fire, he headed back into the cabin for a bottle of rum and a couple tumblers. By the time he returned outside, Bobby was back, sitting by the fire and whittling a stick down to a sharp point. As Henrik approached, Bobby slapped at his forearm.

“Git away, ye wee buggers!”

Henrik raised his eyebrows and chuckled at the sudden strength of the Scottish man’s accent, an accent he usually kept toned down.

Bobby slapped himself again. “Fuckin’ eejits!” He looked up at Henrik’s approach and glowered. “These bugs are right pissin’ me off!”

“I see that,” Henrik smirked. He set the glasses down on a sawn-off log he used as a side table and poured the amber liquid into each of them. “Let me get you some bug spray.”

Bobby’s face softened. “Thanks, mate.”

Mate. Weirdly, as Henrik returned to the cabin, the way he said it this time didn’t seem as cutting or meant to annoy him. Like he actually meant it. But even weirder, there was still something about it that Henrik hated the sound of. Something that bothered him.

He found the bug spray and brought it back outside, tossing it to Bobby, who accepted it gratefully and stepped a few feet away to apply it generously. He came back to the fire and returned to his sticks until he was satisfied with them, then grabbed the bag of marshmallows and slid one onto each stick. He handed one to Henrik, and the two of them settled down to roast their marshmallows.

It was weirdly quiet, other than the sparks from the fire, and Henrik shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Just waiting for Bobby to find something to start making fun of him for.

It never happened. Maybe it was the atmosphere. Maybe it was the rum. Maybe they were just tired of bickering. Whatever it was, they somehow managed to have a civil conversation. Bobby asked about Henrik’s love of the outdoors. Henrik asked about Bobby’s work. They both talked about their experience moving to England from their respective countries. It was actually nice.

The one subject they avoided was Lucas. And whatever their little rivalry was.

And when the fire eventually died down and they stumbled piss drunk into the cabin at the end of the night, Bobby didn’t even whine about taking the couch. He just dropped onto it, still fully clothed, and fell asleep.

***

Henrik woke to the smell of bacon wafting into the bedroom. Bacon, and something else familiar that he couldn’t quite put a finger on. Something savoury and… comforting.

He yawned as he rolled out of bed and went to investigate the source of the smell. He stopped short when he entered the kitchen to find Bobby standing at the stove wearing just a towel around his waist. He had seen Bobby shirtless the day before, of course, but for the first time his attention was drawn to the sprinkling of dark freckles across his back and shoulders, and the way his body was lean and toned, but not overly muscular. Way too attractive.

Henrik cleared his throat, and Bobby turned around at the sound, raising his eyebrows as he looked him over head-to-toe. For some reason, that look made Henrik nervous, worried that he wouldn’t measure up.

“Look who’s finally up,” Bobby said, with a sarcastic tone that made Henrik’s stomach drop.

_Oh, great. He’s back to being an arsehole._

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Didn’t realize we were on a schedule.”

_Why the fuck am I apologizing? And why do I care so much?_

“I tried to take a shower this morning, but the water went ice fucking cold halfway through.”

“Yeah, it does that,” Henrik replied. “Gotta keep showers short.”

“A warning would’ve been nice,” Bobby spat. “Now my hair still smells like smoke because I couldn’t wash it.”

“Oh, who fucking cares?” Henrik finally lost it and slammed his fist on the kitchen table. “You’ve been complaining this whole fucking time, and I’m sick of your shit! I did this for Lucas, and I’ve tried to be nice, but you just keep on whingeing about every little fucking thing like you’re some diva who expects everything handed to you on a fucking platter! You’re a fucking bellend!”

Bobby leaned on the fridge and smirked. “You sure do like talking about my dick, don’t you?” He reached down and cupped himself through the towel, his eyes never leaving Henrik’s face. “Maybe you’d like to see it.”

Henrik froze, and his mouth went dry as heat rushed over him. He looked down to where Bobby’s hand clutched the towel, his gaze lingering before he jerked his eyes back up to Bobby’s. He swallowed as he realized that Bobby was looking back at him triumphantly, that fucking sparkle in his eyes showing that he had been caught.

Henrik growled as he spun on his heel and returned to his room, only to come out a moment later with a clean towel and toiletries. He ran into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him before turning on the water. He stripped himself of his pants and stepped under the spray, letting the cold water rush over him. He didn’t mind the cold. In fact, he needed it – for more than one reason.

He was pissed. Pissed at Bobby, yes, but mostly pissed at himself for the way he reacted. The way he felt. He hated Bobby, so why did he suddenly have this effect on him? He hated that nothing seemed to phase the man, that he was always there with a quick remark and a knowing smirk on his face.

When Henrik finally emerged from the bathroom, Bobby was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was a plate on the table with toast, bacon, and – could it be? Scotch eggs. A glass of orange juice sat next to it.

Scotch eggs? Henrik hadn’t brought Scotch eggs. His stomach flipped as he realized that Bobby must have made them from scratch. Did he know they were one of his favourites? He couldn’t – but yes, yes he did know. Henrik had mentioned offhand the day before that they were one of his favourites. Why would he do something so nice all of a sudden?

He rushed out onto the deck, looking for Bobby, but he was nowhere to be seen. The car was still there, and Bobby’s phone was on the table, so he couldn’t have gone far. Relieved, he headed back inside and eyed the plate.

_A peace offering?_

Henrik sat at the table and dug into the food. The eggs were some of the best he’d ever had, warming his soul the way they always did.

 _Fuck_.

He was just putting his dishes away after cleaning up when Bobby walked back into the cabin.

“Hey,” Bobby said quietly. He leaned against the counter and stared back at Henrik with a stoic expression on his face.

“Hey,” Henrik replied. He was suddenly nervous and unsure of what to say. “Um, thanks for breakfast. The eggs, that was—they were really good.”

“Thanks.”

“I didn’t expect it.”

Bobby shrugged. “Well, I guess I was kind of a jerk this morning.”

Henrik raised an eyebrow. “Just this morning?”

A small smile tugged at Bobby’s lips. “Well, yesterday, too. And before that.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you were.”

Henrik’s eyebrows knit together for a moment as he suddenly realized something. The Scotch eggs hadn’t just been a peace offering for their little blow-up this morning. They had to have been in the oven already by that time. That was what he had smelled when he woke up, that familiar, comforting scent that had gotten him out of bed. All along, despite his harsh words, Bobby had been doing something nice – for _him_.

He looked up and was surprised to see that Bobby had shifted closer and was standing right in front of him. He swallowed at the sudden proximity, and as their eyes met, he saw none of the playful mirth he was used to seeing; there was only a strangely serious expression in them as they flicked back and forth, searching his own.

“Look, I—” Bobby started speaking, then stopped himself with a frown.

Henrik’s pulse raced and goosebumps rose on his skin as he looked with wonder at the man in front of him. He didn’t—there was no way, right? This was _Lucas’s_ _boyfriend_.

And then Bobby suddenly leaned forward.

Henrik didn't expect it. He didn't expect the soft, plump lips that he'd looked at with disgust so many times to cover his. He didn't expect the spark that lit within him at the contact. He didn't expect the warmth that spread throughout his body. He didn't expect the butterflies in his stomach, or the way his trousers suddenly felt a little tight.

_Oh. Oh, fuck._

For the first time, he realized that he didn't hate Bobby “fucking" McKenzie. No. As his hands came up and his fingers curled around the fabric of the other man's shirt, he realized he never had. He had been jealous, yes. Jealous of the relationship between him and Lucas. But for the first time, he realized that maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t been jealous of Bobby at all. Maybe he’d been jealous of Lucas.

Those lips he'd stared at, the ones that were always curled up in that mischievous little way, were finally on his. Fingers that weren’t his own weaved between the strands of his long hair, holding him close as the kiss deepened, and Bobby’s tongue slid between his lips. Their bodies pressed together, and it was everything he could have dreamt of.

He was kissing Bobby McKenzie.

And he liked it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos/comment if you enjoyed!


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